


I.N.T.ergalactic

by lemonrinds



Category: EXO (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Space, BTS is going to kill me someday just sayin', Cross-posted on yoonmin AU fest, Crushes, Even if the world ends yoonmin will survive mark my words, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Guardians of the Galaxy (2014) - Freeform, Jimin has the most gigantic crush, Kim Taehyung | V & Park Jimin Are Best Friends, Kim Taehyung | V is a Brat, M/M, Pickpockets, Pickpockets!AU, Space!AU, THERE IS SO MUCH TENSION YOU WILL DIE, Taekook being whipped as usual, Tension, Yoongi is an alien oms, Yoongi is so smooth, Yoonmin is life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 02:46:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11004369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonrinds/pseuds/lemonrinds
Summary: Jimin is a galactic pickpocket who may have accidentally ended up with the wrong Stolen Goods™. Featuring: Yoongi, the smokin’-hot, super-powerful alien and a whale.(Or, how a group of bounty hunters, a pair of pickpockets and a government official unwittingly saves the Universe.)





	I.N.T.ergalactic

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted for **[Yoonmin AU fest](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10975653)** , but I'm cross-posting on my account too. This is my first Yoonmin fanfic oms, I'm so excited and also sHIT NERVOUS Y'ALL /s k reems/
> 
> Pickpocket AU! meets Guardians of the Galaxy, ft. Bangtan. This was such an ambitious project to start off with ;___;;; Why am I such a masochist?
> 
> Also! You don't need to have watched Guardians of the Galaxy to enjoy this fic, but those of you who have watched it and loves (like me), please enjoy! It's a fusion of a lot of things, fyi. ^^

_In a galaxy far, far away…_

There was war. Humans had the strangest fondness for blowing things up and it was absolutely No Surprise to the rest of the galaxy when the trigger-happy folk decided to end their planet with Nuclear Technology (“Crude,” commented one Xandar Lord, forked tongue flicking over his lips mockingly, “but then they weren’t very advanced to begin with.”)

Civilization was torn to shreds and what remained of Humanity took to the skies in a desperate attempt to save what was left of their species. Re-christened as Terrainians, they watched their home burn on their solar tabloids from the comfort of their stuffed couches in their air ships.

The spirit of the little blue planet was far too powerful to be contained, so the Imperial Galactic Government (known to every galaxy dweller as ‘that stuffy IGG’) decided one day- over a bucket of jewelled chicken nuggets- that its essence would be captured and held in six powerful bodies called ‘Infinity Stones’. And because the energy contained in these stones was so powerful, they were sent, lock stock and barrel, to be placed in an airtight, sealed, high-security chamber in the Sol(larium) Plexus Uranus Gallery (more commonly known as SPUG to the locals) off Solar Base halfway across the Universe.

But only five stones made it safely to their new home. One was declared to be lost.

Until one day, the Universe discovered that it was not in fact _lost_ , but rather, _stolen_.

 

 

 

∞

 

The air is stale.

 _Great,_ Jimin grumbles, _they’ve forgotten to filter out the oxygen supplies again._ He fixes his oxygen mask – the standard rusty yellow one; issued by the government and weighing a ton – over his nose with a low groan. This was what came out of living in a shithole like D-16 (known not-so-fondly as the ‘Dungheap’ by its residents): overflowing trash, pinched faces, occasional circuit cuts – once he’d had to resort to using asteroid power to run his Tech-book, _god_ , what was this? 3017? – and worse, the limited oxygen supplies.

But, for a broke college student who’d literally sold his soul to get into school, D-16 is the closest neighbourhood to the Skycraft terminal – so, he supposes he can’t complain.

He swings his legs from under him, perched precariously on the low chimney of his dingy dorm block. The sky looks like peeling elephant skin – it was always raining on D-16 for some reason. There was a _reason_ why the D block part of the orbit is looked down upon; it always looked like some depressing-as-hell grunge painting and _not_ the aesthetic kind. But Jimin is used to it, and honestly? Considering the way he’d been living his life before, D-16 was a godsend.

He flips to a fresh window in his Tech-Book and opens up the sketch pad to his newest prototype model. Second year was a bitch but Jimin was determined to work as hard as he could because he was going to hang onto the scholarship which landed him in Exordium Interplanetary College, even if it killed him.

Focusing on his star map, Jimin gets so lost in the harsh lines and contours of the Map, that he almost doesn’t notice he’s not alone on the rooftop anymore until there’s a clatter from the stairway. A head of orange hair peeks out from near the empty storage cartons and Taeyhung clambers up the last of the stairs, almost tripping over a bucket of genetically modified fish one of their neighbours had set out to dry.

“Yah,” he wheezes, voice breathy thanks to his lack of a gas mask. “Oxygen supplies are depleted again, and I can’t find my mask. Do you” – wheeze – “ have your spare on you?”

Jimin, slightly alarmed, fishes around his backpack and tosses Taehyung his extra mask. “Why are you always losing yours Tae? I’m going to kick Jeonggukie if he doesn’t remind you next time.” He adjusts his own mask more securely around his own face. The heavy steel contraption is uncomfortable as fuck, but the alternative was a lapse in oxygen and Jimin doesn’t want to go join those gasping fish anytime soon, thank you very much.

“It’s not his fault; _I_ keep forgetting about curfew,” Taehyung whines. He dumps his own satchel between their bodies. “But never mind that. I’m going to compare our hauls now. Person with the worst loot for the week gets called a drakon egg.”

Jimin cracks a grin. “A _rotten_ drakon egg,” he says, keeping his Tech-Book aside. (The last time Taehyung had done this, he’d unpacked Water Guppies and well, long story short, Jimin would rather protect his precious Tech-Book than be sorry after.) The gleeful smirk on his best friends face was enough to put Jimin on instant alert and he peers around Tae’s shoulder curiously.  

“Okay so this time it was the old bump-and-run – I was too lazy to try anything new –  and it’s a very good haul today, if I say so myself. 4 bags of discs, a Sun-Dial meter –”

“I snuck one of those bejewelled ones last week,” Jimin sings.

“…show off. As I was _saying_ : jewelled sturchins just because I was hungry –

“ _Cough_ , I stole some of those really expensive Quon loaves, _cough_.”

“Shut up, Jimin!” Tae wails. “I will not be called a rotten drakon egg, I will _not_. My list isn’t over anyway; I think there’s also a Comm device somewhere in the mix–”

“You stole a _Comm?_ ”

“Oh, chill it’s just razor technology, nobody’ll miss it.” Taehyung flaps a hand dismissively before plunging into the depths of the backpack and bringing out a circular object, cradling it in his palms as if it were a baby. “But look at this. I managed to nick an _iDrone_ Chimchim, it’s an actual honest-to-heavens iDrone.” Taehyung has literal hearts in his eyes but Jimin snatches the iDrone out of his hand.

“Kim Taehyung! iDrones are _Tagged_ that’s why Rule Number One of pickpocketing is _never steal liquid technology._ Ever. We could go to _jail._ ”

“I _removed_ it, okay? The little old Martian lady hadn’t been able to screw it on properly, so hacking the code and screwing it off wasn’t that difficult.”

“Alright, don’t come crying to me if someone comes to kill you,” Jimin huffs. Since the day he’d met Taehyung (more like _mugged_ , Jimin running halfway down the street with the little book in his hands before turning a complete 180 and buying the underfed boy a box of bread), Jimin had been fiercely protective of the younger. Of the duo, Taehyung was always the brash one – he went for grand thefts, elaborate loots and large scale pocketing; while Jimin was lither: quieter thefts performed with sleekness and graceful accuracy, preferring to snatch small but expensive objects. Living off crusts of bread found in back alleys had been decidedly _un_ -fun, so he’d fallen to pickpocketing: the quiet rush of slipping a valuable off a fat stranger’s expensive wrist and loaning it for food and other necessities.

Years of experience had taught him there were some things even thieves don’t mess with, and Comm devices (which usually came with Tags attached so that they could be tracked if they ever got lost or, as in their case, stolen) was number one on the list.

He pulls Tae’s backpack towards himself and rootles around: comics, more comics, snacks and – what’s that?

“What’s this?” Jimin pulls out what looks like an ordinary storage orb from the satchel. It’s made out of some shiny, probably exorbitantly expensive metal, etched with a series of designs.

Taehyung looks up from where he’s still fiddling with the iDrone and takes the orb from Jimin’s outstretched hand. “Dunno,” he says contemplatively, twisting it around. “Probably just an ordinary storage orb. Can’t seem to open it though. How’d this get in my bag?” He ponders for a moment before snapping his fingers, eyes lighting up. “Oh, I remember. This beefy Groawk pissed me off last week so I nicked a hand into his pocket when he wasn’t looking and got this. Shame,” he says sadly. “Only thing he had on himself was this old thing, but still. I felt loads better afterwards.”

He looks up, eyes lighting in mischief before tossing it to Jimin. “Here, you can have it. Since I win this round because of my beautiful, _beaooootiful_ iDrone.”

Tae strokes the Drone against his cheek and Jimin bursts into giggles. “Fine, you win,” he says easily, slipping the Orb absentmindedly into his satchel and promptly forgetting all about it.

 

∞

 

The next morning, Jimin wakes up with a screech.

Honestly, Core Astro Physics was just too damn much for an Arts major and Jimin curses himself for the millionth time for keeping his compulsory subjects till the last moment. If he hadn’t been struggling through one of his more advanced modules and if he had actually bothered to spread out his electives evenly throughout his years like that Vespa lecturer had advised on the first day of orientation oh so long ago, Jimin would have hightailed out of that CAPhy class like his ass was on fire.

And another thing. 8 am classes were never Park Jimin’s strong point and his lecturers could all attest to that. That’s why Jimin flies down the walkway towards the Skycraft, satchel flapping against his hips, half an apple stuck between his teeth, one earbud dangling from his ear and _jams_ an elbow hard through the tiny crack between the almost-closed Skycraft doors to force them to re-open again, because he _cannot_ afford to take the next one which was an entire 45 minutes later when the ride itself took close to one hour. He lets out a puff of air once he’d boarded, leaning limply against one of the metal rails surrounding the sides, doing his best to ignore most of the dirty looks shot his way because he’d held up the Craft. He’s just patting his pockets to make sure that he’d brought his Comm (he’d left it behind in his dorm one time and had suffered an absolute day of nightmares) when he hears a cheery voice calling his name.

“Jimin hyung!”

Jimin snaps his head up to be met with the cute smile of Jeon Jeongguk, the hybrid Kryon first year who so happened to be Tae’s boyfriend.

“Gukkie,” Jimin coos delightedly, grabbing the younger boy in a tight hug. “How are you? Why haven’t you been coming around more often?” Jeongguk sways a little under Jimin’s death grip – though this was probably for Jimin’s benefit; Kryon’s were renowned for their freakishly superhuman strength.

“I _just_ came last week, hyung,” Jeongguk laughs.

“Huh, didn’t realise,” Jimin smiles. “Tae’s been moaning so much about you not dropping by that I feel like I haven’t seen you in a year.” He winks up at the younger boy, pushing his brown bangs out of his eyes. He leans up against the railing next to Jeongguk and they fall into an easy conversation and their familiar pattern of teasing (which mostly ends up with Jimin poking fun of Jeongguk for being completely whipped for his best friend; a fact the younger doesn’t even deny) and he’d all about forgotten about Astro Physics when there was a sudden commotion near him.

Skycrafts have a rectangular interior with glass windows; metallic poles fixed along interval paces. A few poles down from Jimin, amongst the packed room, was a thickset Groawk, green skin pulled taut over his face, mouth mashed into an ugly frown. He was holding up a circular device which was emitting a keening vibration. Most of the other passengers were getting annoyed, a low grumbling filling the air.

Jimin cranes his neck to get a clear view. “What do you think that is?”

Jimin didn’t really expect Jeongguk to answer so his reply of “Sounds like a tracking device,” throws him off balance.

“ _What?_ Why?”

Jeongguk just shrugs, “I don’t know, hyung; I’m not the one with the device.”

Jimin purses his lips, standing on his tiptoes to try and see above the shoulder of a burly Martian, when there was a second sound which sounded like a respondent hum to the vibrations. It emits from close by and Jimin is startled when the front pocket of his satchel starts madly shaking. “What the _fuck_?”

There’s a collective holding of breath as the Groawk whips his head up and barrels straight at Jimin, three other cronies following in his wake.

Jimin barely has time to raise his hands before the Groawk slams his palms on Jimin’s chest, sending him reeling, head connecting with the glass window with a resounding crack. Blinking stars from his eyes, he finds his sweater bulked up in the Groawk’s hands, acidic breath washing over him in waves. “You have it don’t you, you filthy little Terrain?”

Before Jimin can even begin to open his mouth, Jeongguk appears in front of him. “Keep your hands to yourself, Groawk;” he sneers, pinching the Groawk’s hands hard enough to make the other let go of Jimin with a hiss.

“Keep your nose out of this Kryon,” the Groawk leers. “This is between me and this filthy little Terrainian here, I have no business with you.”

“Oh, but this is my business too. You see, this ‘filthy little Terrainian here’ happens to be my friend, so please, shoot.”

The Groawk sneers. “Your friend here is a _thief_ , a common pickpocket. He has something of mine and once I get it back, I’m going to make sure he ends up in the highest security jail-bloc in this galaxy.”

Jeongguk’s nose flares, his hand twitching up. “Why you little –

“I’ve never seen you in my life Groawk,” Jimin says truthfully. “Even if I _were_ a pickpocket as you claim me to be, I doubt I’d steal from you.”

“You shut your fly you nasty lil’ shit. Not five minutes ago, I received a signal from this tracking device” – he shakes the circular object which is still clutched in his hand – “which has been trying to track the whereabouts of an important object of mine which got stolen four days ago. It was silent all this time until it started going haywire about something in _your_ bag.”

Jeongguk’s pissed but he turns to Jimin. “Is what he’s saying true?”

“No,” Jimin protests.

“Liar,” hisses the Groawk. “And unlike your vermin ass, trackers do not lie. _Turn out your pockets boy._ ”

There’s a screech as the Skycraft arrives at the exit terminal but none of the passengers make a move to get down. It’s not helped by the fact that two more Groawks step out of the shadows and stand threateningly in front of the doors. In fact, when Jimin’s recalling this moment later, he’s pretty sure that a there’s a sea of Comms filming the little act being played out.

“Groawk –

“No, Gukkie, let me clear this once and for all,” Jimin says, eyes flashing defiantly. He doesn’t deny that he’s a pickpocket (and the Groawk definitely doesn’t need to learn that), but he will not admit to stealing something he _didn’t_ steal.

His satchel lands on the floor with a thud and Jimin kneels on the ground, pulling out his mp3, some gum, a water bottle, his colour graphs, the silver orb where he keeps stray tubes of paint and… Jimin feels his blood run cold as his eyes land on the last object: a second silver orb nestled at the very bottom of the pocket.

The pieces fall _click-click-click_ in Jimin’s head. This was the object that Taehyung had given him yesterday, which he’d claimed to swipe off some “beefy Groawk”.

And Jimin makes what could easily be the stupidest or the smartest decision he’s ever made in his life: he lies. “This is all I have,” he says. “If you have any interest in gum or a water bottle, it’s all yours.”

“Hyung.” Jeongguks’s eyes are pleading, but Jimin doesn’t know what he’s trying to tell him. The Kryon isn’t even looking at him directly anymore, instead staring off at a spot behind Jimin’s shoulder.

Groawks are known for a lot of things: brawn, muscle, crudeness; but definitely not for their brains. “That’s it, that’s mine,” spits the Groawk, mouth foaming, as he points at Jimin’s storage orb. He surges forward, eyes mad with fury, and shakes Jimin, “You _did_ steal it, you fucking –

A little cough comes from behind Jimin.

“Is there a problem here?” a low voice asks. “You’re blocking the doors.”

Abruptly, there’s a marked shift in temperature and Jimin feels the Groawk’s hands loosening on his shirt, before he takes in a breath. “This vermin here,” he begins, before pausing to spit rather dramatically to the side, “stole a valuable possession of mine –

“How terrible.” The low voice is as flat as before, but there’s a slight tinge of boredom to it now. Jimin really wants to look behind him but he doesn’t dare to, not with the Groawk’s yellowing fingernails still placed fairly close to his jugular. “I take it, that you’re talking about this object here?”

The person must have made a motion with his head, for the green hands pry off Jimin’s shirt completely and the Groawk takes an unwilling step back. “Yes.”

A pale hand suddenly shoots into Jimin’s view, long fingers curling around Jimin’s orb and picking it up. “Here you go.” The hand tosses the orb at the Groawk who performs a little flail in his attempt to catch. “Let’s break this party up, shall we? I have a class I’m late for and I’m sure everybody else is late too.”

“I’m not finished –

“I don’t _care_. You can happily go and murder each other, but get down _off_ this craft before you get on with it – the rest of us have schedules to stick to.”

And with that, the person finally steps into Jimin’s line of vision. He has silvery hair, pale skin etched with silver imprints and looks decidedly humanesque, except for his unnaturally silver eyes. They pass over Jimin’s face once, an eyebrow tweaking up fractionally before facing forward smoothly, stepping past the gaping Groawks and disappearing out the door.

Jeongguk’s eyes flash once at the stranger before he’s up and rushing over to fuss over Jimin. He helps Jimin stuff his belongings haphazardly back into the satchel, hoisting it over his own back with a, “Come on hyung, let’s get out of here _._ ”

The Groawks pause one last time to leer at Jimin, shooting deadly glares in Jeongguk’s direction as well, before climbing out.

A hot blast of wind slaps Jimin on the face as he (finally) steps off the SkyCraft. A part of his mind is vaguely sniffing at him that he’s already _missed Astro Physics by a mile, might as well have just stayed at home and not gone through all that drama_ while another, bigger part of his brain is still trying to process what in the _heavens_ just happened back there.

A light touch on his arm startles him back to consciousness and Jeongguk’s apologetic smile swims into view. “Hyung, I’m sorry, but I have to go now. Do you think you’ll be okay? Do you want me to call Tae to come pick you up?”

“No, Jeongguk-ah, I’ll be fine.” Jimin takes his satchel back from Jeongguk with a smile. “Wait! Before I forget, do you know who that was back on the train? – The silver haired guy?”

“Er, I didn’t get a good look at him,” Jeongguk fiddles with his bag’s strap, voice a bit strained. “Must be a senior. I’ll let you know if I have any news on him hyung, but I’ve really got to go now.” With a last smile and wave Jeongguk turns and jogs off, disappearing into the throng.

Jimin waits until he’s sure the Kryon had vanished before plopping onto the nearest bench and placing his satchel on his lap. He unzips the front pocket, pushing all his remaining junk away and the bright silver of the mysterious orb glints back at him almost defiantly.

Glancing around, he takes it out of the pocket, still keeping it shielded in the satchel’s shade just in case and observes it. Remembering the Groawk’s tracking device, he flips it around, assuming that if it had been Tagged; it would have been done in the back and yep, there it is. There’s a small hole in the underside of the orb as if somebody (read: Taehyung) had pried off a chunk of the silver metal. Tae had done a pretty shit job of it because upon closer inspection, Jimin spies a tiny black chip still peeking out from inside the metal – this must have been what triggered off the sensitive tracking device. He holds the black chip between his fingers, prying it off with a few hard tugs and flicking it into the recycle chute next to the bench.

 _What is this orb?_ Jimin thinks, zipping the orb up again in his bag. He needed to corner Tae and quiz him again, let him know what happened.

Why was the orb so important that a Tag needed to be attached to it? And who was desperate enough to get it back that he almost got ended up in Jail Bloc because of it? And who was that silver haired person who was able to part the Groawks as easily as water?

He thinks he sees a flash of silver hair from further down the terminal, but Jimin blames it on the sunlight and walks away.

 

∞

 

Taehyung is furious.

“Are you serious?” the younger hisses and Jimin has to practically sit on him to stop him from doing anything rash. “Lemme at ‘em – those _rudeass_ Greowks.”

“What _I_ want to know is who Mr. Silver Hair was,” Jimin groans, faceplanting on his bed.

“Wait.” Tae flops down on the bed next to him. “Silver hair? Markings on skin? Sort of looks like he’s pissed with the world?”

“I dunno about that last one, but check for the other two.” Jimin peels his face off his pillow, eyes curious. “Why, do you know him?”

“You mean to say you _don’t?_ ”

Jimin gapes. “No, I most certainly do _not_.”

“Yeah, you probably haven’t spoken with him because he keeps to himself a lot,” Tae nods. “But Jeonggukie’s friends with him – at least, he’s mentioned him to me a couple times. I’m surprised he didn’t introduce you.”

Jimin’s mind flashes back to the shifty look Jeongguk had given him at the terminal. “He didn’t,” he hears himself say. “Who is he?”

“Names Min Yoongi.” Tae drops his voice to a dramatic whisper: “He’s a _Bakni_.”

“…”

“ _Yeah_ , I know. I don’t know if Bakni’s are as all-powerful as people make them out to be, but I know for a fact that they’re rare as fuck. I don’t know how the fuck he managed to worm his way into our school. _And_ he’s got a reputation, Chim.” Tae wrinkles his nose. “You should probably stay away from him.”

“Why am I suddenly reminded of some god-awful cheesy flick where the heroine is warned to stay away from the hero because he’s _dangerous_?” Jimin groans. “That’s sort of ridiculous.”

“Oh, and I take it that you’re the heroine in this flick, while Mr. Possibly-All-Powerful-Bakni is the hero?” Tae sticks his hands under Jimin, tickling him, Jimin gasping with laughter and pretty soon it’s an all-out brawl between the two friends; all mentions of Bakni’s and Groawks fading from their minds.

The silver orb glints up ominously at Jimin from his jacket pocket, all but forgotten until the next day when he discovers that he can’t dispose of it down the recycle chute like he’d initially planned on.

 

∞

 

The days pass by in their usual monotony. After his very dramatic Monday morning, the only remotely exciting thing to happen to Jimin was getting thrown out of a class along with Tae, because the little shit convinced him to play Asteroid Poker under the table and they both got caught. Bogged down by assignments and projects, Jimin hadn’t had time to do anything else, although the eventful Skycraft ride keeps replaying in his head.

At random intervals, he catches himself drifting off into a daydream – in the middle of a lecturer’s monologue, chewing canned ddeokbokki flakes in the cafeteria, in the shower after a long day – about the silver haired Bakni. He hadn’t seen him even once for all his two years in college, though Jimin rationalizes that’s quite fair as the college housed almost a quarter of the students in the entire galaxy.

 _But, why can’t I meet him just once?_ , Jimin thinks mournfully, _At least to thank him. And maybe invite him for a cup of that delicious iced dessert Tae always goes on abo-_ no _, brain stop right there._ He was trespassing on dangerous territory here.

To take his mind off what Jimin had dubbed The Incident™, Jimin throws all his energy into investigating into the mysterious silver orb. He’d analysed it at length, trying to pry it open with first his hands, then a pair of tongs, then a crowbar and had finally chucked it against a door at one point – to no avail. He’d even enlisted the help of an underground contact – Kyungsoo hyung had inspected the orb thoroughly for an entire two days before shaking his head. “You probably need to get this to a specialist Jimin. I don’t think I can help you.” Jimin had almost given up trying to crack the mystery. He’d still taken to carrying the orb with him stubbornly, resolving that if he didn’t manage to figure out what it was; he’d put it up on SpaceBay and sell it off.

But when he’d come home to find his apartment trashed one day, he knew something was up. Nothing was stolen, it was almost as if someone had been looking for something. He’d crashed at Tae’s that day, the other boy ecstatic at the turn of events and resolved to be more vigilant in the future. Something was fishy and Jimin couldn’t help feeling it was all tied to the orb.

It’s a rainy October evening when Jimin decides to go for a walk, having been cooped indoors for almost a week. He could try those candy apples from that stall which had sprung up in the city centre and snitch a few pockets if he got bored. _It’s a foolproof plan,_ he thinks, shrugging on his favourite fleece jacket, earphones popped in, before shouting a cheerful goodbye to Tae and heading out.

The city centre is bustling despite the cold weather and Jimin burrows into his jacket as he makes a beeline for the candy apple stall. Sticky treats devoured, Jimin emerges a while later, blinking raindrops out of his eyelashes and the transition to smooth criminal (Tae’s words: “You’ve been hit by a _smooth criminaaaallll_ ”) is seamless. Jimin falls easily into the familiar pattern of bump-and-rob; sometimes even pausing to practice his flirting skills on Martian girls and boys before making off with their jewellery or their purses. Then, with Monstaz X blasting loud in his ear, Jimin turns back, passing by several Kree, Vespas, some more Kree and another literal _flock_ of Kree – wait.

Jimin frowns at the abundance of Kree, popping out one earbud. Kree were quite an anti-social bunch, so seeing them in such abundance was a bit odd. He feels a warning tingling down his spine, twisting his neck to see behind him – more Kree – when he comes to an abrupt halt.

There’s Kree on three sides around him, dressed in the same matching black uniform.

 “Um,” Jimin says, before he bolts down the nearest alleyway. He runs as fast as his legs can carry him, holding a death grip on his satchel, leaping over carts and stairways and thinking rather ironically that if this is what it felt like to be an action movie, it sucked _balls_. He hears, rather than sees the Kree chase after him, possibly without even breaking a sweat and Jimin’s just hoping that they don’t whip out some Necroblasts or Lasers when he ducks into a shifty alley and the sound of their footsteps fade away.

Jimin almost thought he had lost them, pulling his hood up and trying to try to blend in with the rest of the alley lurkers, when a hand shoots out from the shadows and stops him. He stumbles, jerking to a halt.

“Hand it over, there’s a good lad.”

Jimin blinks and there’s a laser in his face and he backtracks so fast, he stumbles again. “O-okay, hold up,” he stutters nervously, before taking a good look at the laser holder to see that it isn’t a holder but… a hand? Well, the laser _was_ the hand, attached to a long arm and the gangly body of a person who’s made up of equal parts steel as he is of flesh: a cyborg. “What do you want me to hand over?”

The cyborg blinks and suddenly smiles wide, face lighting up. “The _orb_ , dude. Give it here before I have to blast you with this baby.” He shakes his laser arm slightly in demonstration.

“Um, _oookay_ ,” Jimin says slowly, backing away as noncommittally as possible, “I don’t know any ‘orbs’ but I do have some ladies’ chokers on me, so you can have that if you want. And, _really?_ A laser?”

“Why is everybody’s first question always about the laser?” wails the cyborg, before seeming to remember his initial purpose and snapping to attention, eyes narrowing at Jimin. “Orb. _Now_.”

Before Jimin can respond, there’s a scuffle behind him and a herd of Kree charge into view. Jimin curses, pushing the cyborg – “Go, go, _go_!” “You’re being chased by Luhan’s henchmen?!” “I’m being chased by _who’s_ _what_?” “Never mind, just turn left there.” – and charging down the alley’s, cyborg in tow.

There’s a sudden blast behind them and a jet of light narrowly misses Jimin’s head. He squeaks, and now it’s the cyborg’s turn to curse as he pivots around and fires his laser in rapid succession (there are some uses for having a laser as an arm after all). Jimin careens down another bend, the cyborg falling behind, and shit, shit, _shit_ – it’s a dead end.

“Well,” a voice drawls and no, no, _no_ this is _not_ a good time, – “Hoseok’s not doing his work properly, I see.” It’s Mr. Silver Hair ( _Bakni_ , Jimin corrects himself) face obscured by a hood, hands in his pockets.

“A little help here?” Jimin pants, doubling over and jabbing a thumb behind him where he can hear the shouts of the cyborg and the Kree getting closer. “I’m kind of in the middle of a situation here.”

“So, I see.” The Bakni just leans against the doorway, inspecting his nails. “Tell you what: I’ll help you out if you make a bargain with me.”

“And here I was thinking about asking you for coffee,” sniffs Jimin, outraged. “Can’t we talk about bargains _later?_ There’s a bunch of Kree on my tail!”

“Ah, but this is the perfect instance to strike up a bargain,” returns the Bakni easily. “I need something you have and, well, judging from those Kree charging into view, I’d say you’re in need of my help.”

“Fine,” Jimin snaps. “What do you want?”

“That day back in the Skycraft, you didn’t give the actual orb to that Groawk did you? You gave a fake –” A Kree appears behind Jimin and he’s so glad he went on a snitching spree moments earlier because he whips out a Xandar perfume and sprays it on the Kree’s eyes, the latter giving a howl before buckling, clutching his eyes. “What I need is the actual orb,” the Bakni continues as if he hasn’t seen what just happened.

“You work for that _Groawk_?”

“Oh, galaxies, _no_.” This time the Bakni gives the second Kree in his trail an impatient look, as if annoyed at the meddling Kree for interrupting _his_ important conversation and the Kree immediately stops moving as if he’s paralysed. “But I need that orb.”

“Why?” A _thwack!_ from a heavy book sends a third Kree crumpling.

“Reasons.” Another Kree gets frozen with an eye glare.

“If you’re selling it to a buyer, I want 20% of the profits,” Jimin snips.

“We don’t share profits, Terrain.” There’s a grunt as another Kree goes down when Jimin clubs him, quite accidently, on the noggin with a (admittedly, very heavy) ladies purse. “And who told you that I’m reselling it?”

“You just about told me that you _are_ by saying that. Well, too bad, I’m the one with the orb remember?”

“Then you’re next after these pesky Kree.” Jimin glares at the Bakni and the latter just raises an eyebrow, sending him a challenging look: _try me_.

Damnit, Jimin doesn’t have time for this, he’s being _chased_. “Okay,” he snaps. “Now, focus please?”

“My pleasure,” the Bakni smiles, and Jimin’s almost blinded by that very perfect, beautiful smile – god, _focus_ Park Jimin, there’s Kree trying to beat up your ass.

He takes out another item from his pocket and jabs it in the nearest Kree’s face, only realising belatedly that he’d jabbed a very sharp, very pointy Venusian comb up the wailing Kree’s nostrils. He’s about to pat himself on the back when there’s a whistle next to his ear and a laser blast leaves a trail of fire right above his ear and then that Kree is quickly shot down by the cyborg who finally sails into the picture.

Then, Jimin’s eyes train on the Bakni who’d finally peeled himself off the doorway. He lifts up his hands and a glowing beam of energy appears and ricochets off the Kree who’d veritably _flocked_ into the narrow alleyway by this time, taking them down like ninepins.

“Hey, you could have left one last one for me,” cyborg complaints and the Bakni just points behind him. The cyborg turns, quickly blasting a hole in the Kree’s skull and pretends to puff out smoke from his laser-hand-gun. “We done.”

The Bakni just snorts, crouching down next to the nearest Kree and turning his face. “The mark of Luhan,” he says quietly, pointing at a black diamond tattooed on the Kree’s forehead. “These are Luhan’s henchmen.”

“You must be pretty popular for Luhan to send so many of his henchmen,” the cyborg says, nodding at Jimin. “What’d you do to piss him off?”

“ _Or_ , it’s because of the _orb_ , Hoseok,” the Bankni says drily, standing up.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Jimin blinks trying to process everything. He points a finger at the Bakni, then trails it over to the cyborg, “You two know each other?”

“Course,” the cyborg chirps brightly. “We work together. I’m Jung Hoseok, your resident cyborg with the coolest, most upto-date laser as an arm (I just installed it like last week, its solar power is _killer_ , welp) and this grumpy pants here is Min Yoongi.”

“You’re doing a shit job at intimidation Hoseok,” Yoongi deadpans.

“Oh, come on, Yoongs, he’s Jeonggukies friend. You _are_ aren’t you?” Hoseok asks Jimin rather severely.

“Jeongguk? As in, _Jeon_ Jeongguk, Tae’s boyfriend?” Jimin’s head is spinning a little. “I – yeah, I am.”

“Great, now that we’re all introduced,” Yoongi snaps before stretching his hand to Jimin. “Orb, pl–”

Without thinking, Jimin places his hand on the Bakni’s palm, trying not melt at how _warm_ it is – and the Bakni just blinks. “Er, your hand is very soft kid, but I’d really rather have the Orb.”

“ _Oh,_ ” Jimin drops his hand as if he’s burned, flushing several shades of strawberry. The Bakni’s mouth twitches. “Um, yeah… I knew that,” he finishes weakly. He scratches the back of his neck. “Look, can’t we just negotiate about this?”

The Bakni stretches his palm further.

“Fine,” Jimin says sullenly, fishing out the orb from his satchel. He drops it into the Bakni’s palm, watching those long fingers curl up around it and stuff it in his high-tech belt pocket. “And my name’s Jimin, FYI. Not Terrain or ‘kid’. Do I _look_ like a baby goat to you?”

The Bakni looks as if he’s trying really hard to keep a straight face. “Okay, good to kn– “

“Wait,” Jimin says, an idea striking him lightning fast. He grabs the Bakni’s hand again, blinking up at the other innocently. “At least let me get you coffee,” he says, pouting sweetly. “To thank you for saving me for the second time in such a short time?”

He proceeds to drag away the baffled Bakni, amidst Hoseok’s loud cheering of “Yoongi hyung’s got a _date_ ” and fighting down his own mad blush. He’s on a _mission_.

They have a lovely coffee together (Jimin’s surprised the Bakni actually went along with it, but his heart is cackling in glee because _look Jimin, you’re having coffee with a smoking hot, super-powerful, the stuff-of-myths kind of guy, and he’s actually sort of really nice and dateworthy when he’s not trying to threaten you_ ) and at the end of it, Jimin’s hand just _accidentally_ brushes against Yoongi’s belt pocket and just _happens_ to pick out a silvery object, well, nobody needs to know.

He’s pretty sure that he’ll at least get a second conversation with the Bakni thanks to that.

 

∞

 

Jeongguk had been in serious trouble when Tae found out.

“How could you Gukkie-ah?” Tae yelled, “How could you not tell me you were in some sort of cahoots with a Bakni and a cyborg? What if you had died doing whatever you’d been doing? What would have happened to me? To our _children?_ ” Tae spreads himself dramatically against a chair, with a hand clutched to his heart.

“We’re just friends, hyung,” Jeongguk says placatingly as Jimin watches from his perch on the counter in amusement, munching on a bowl of Meteor Flakes. “And _what_ children?”

“Pichu might as well be,” Tae snaps, pointing to his favourite yellow rodent-type plushie sat on the chair next to him.

“That’s true,” Jeongguk mutters, “I’ll get you another one.” Taehyung all but screeches as he bounds into his boyfriend’s lap, previous miff forgotten.

“You guys,” Jimin says conversationally, scraping the last of the Flakes off the bowl, “are disgusting.”

“Just wait until you get yourself a short, intimidating Bakni boyfriend,” says Tae viciously, “then we’ll see who’s disgusting.”

Anyway, that had been yesterday. Jimin tries very hard not to let his traitorous mind pair the word _boyfriend_ and _Bakni_ together, nope, he’s not thinking of it _at all_ as he goes to open the front door to let Jeongguk in for his usual daily lunch with Tae.

The door swings open and Jimin blinks, mind sizzling to a blank.

“Hello, Park Jimin,” Min Yoongi says politely, standing beside a very disgruntled looking Jeongguk. “You have something of mine.”

“Um,” Jimin says, intelligently.

“What took you so long?” Taehyung snips, bounding into view – “Oh. _Oh_. Hi, Yoongi-ssi.”

“Hello, Taehyung.” Yoongi’s lips curl into a small smile. “May we come in?”

“Of course,” Tae grins, reaching across Jimin who’s still frozen in place and pulling the door open wider.

“Look who’s on their best behaviour,” Jeongguk mutters sourly, following behind Yoongi. The Bakni feigns deafness as he drapes himself across one of the tiny kitchen chairs, looking, all things considered, remarkably at home.

“So…” Taehyung says, twiddling his thumbs and looking back and forth between Yoongi and Jimin. “This is not awkward at all.” He then glances over at his boyfriend, who still looks remarkably pissed, banging the lid of the ice box closed after helping taking out a bottle of water.

The loud _bang_ manages to unfreeze Jimin from his trance. “Okay, look,” Jimin storms over. “If this is about yesterday, you were practically asking for it Yoongi-ssi. And the orb’s, not _yours_ , I just took back something which I had.”

Yoongi just raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Jimin insists, flushing slightly because _okay_ , it’s his fault but he’s not about to admit that.

“Hmm. That was quite impressive yesterday,” Yoongi nods his head contemplatively. “That’s the kind of skill we could use.”

Jimin’s thrown. “What.”

“I’ve been begging you for _years_ to let Tae join us, or for me to be allowed to at least tell him, but you’ve always said no,” Jeongguk moans, banging his head on the table. “But when Jimin hyung comes along and straight up _mugs_ you, you’re letting them _both_ join?”

“I’m just re-evaluating my descions Gukka-ah,” Yoongi says smoothly. “A pair of pickpockets would be very useful in covert missions. Especially this one.”

“I’m sorry,” says Jimin, thoroughly confused. This is worse than the time Tae went on that ‘giant lizards should be allowed to overthrow the government’ rant. “But, what are you talking about?”

“I’m lost too,” Tae complains from behind Jimin. “I’m lost-er than Jimin because _what_ and _who_ are we referring to?”

Yoongi sits up a little straighter and fixes his strange silver eyes on Jimin. “Ever heard of BTS?”

“You mean, have we ever heard of Bangtan Seonyondan, _the_ most famous bounty hunter group that’s responsible for like half the heists in the galaxy, _including_ that badass Plutonian Tryst two years ago? No,” Taehyung snorts. “We so totally haven’t.”

“Well,” Yoongi raises an eyebrow as Jeongguk tries his best to smother a grin. “You’re looking at them.”

“The table is BTS?” asks Tae, bewildered.

“Yes. The table is a walking, talking unit of bounty hunters who zip across space, well done Taehyung, how observant.” Jeongguk manages to keep his face neutral (years of patience, Jimin knows) but Yoongi doesn’t even try. “ _No_. BTS is made up of me, Hoseok – you met him yesterday Jimin – and this brat over here.” He jabs his thumb at Jeongguk. “Hoseok is usually the planner, along with me. Jeongguk is the muscle man – he does brilliantly in combat situations. Seokjin is our pilot, and I’m the dealer who usually finds us missions. Any questions?”

Tae raises a finger. “Aside from the fact that my boyfriend is part of the _biggest unit of bounty hunters in the galaxy_ ” – Jeongguk slinks down in his seat – “tiny question: what does this have to with me and Chimchim?”

“I’d like you two to join us. We’re currently on a very delicate assignment, and we may need the… expertise, of two people who are used to obtaining things from other people without them noticing.”

“So, basically, you need the help of two pickpockets.”

“I tried to put it nicely,” sighs Yoongi, “but yes. That’s the gist of it.”

“Shouldn’t we, I don’t know, talk about this some –

“Sure, I’m in.”

“ _Tae!_ ”

“What? I’m not saying no to adventures and skipping class –

“It’s a bit more complicated than that –

– and belonging to a group of bounty hunters, especially if they’re _BTS_ ,” he finishes, ignoring Yoongi. His eyes turn pleading, pout mode on full display. “C’mon, Chim, say yes, I won’t do it if you won’t.”

Jimin flicks his eyes quickly to Yoongi who’s watching them with open curiosity, and then looks back at Tae. Damnit, he’d never been able to resist Tae’s puppy dog look and he’s not about to start now. “Alright. I’m in too.”

“Excellent,” Yoongi cuts in. “We have a few contracts for you to sign, and then I’ll fill you in on the mission. If all goes well, we’ll be meeting our client tonight, and that’ll be the end of that.”

 

∞

 

Jeongguk had filled them in all the details after Yoongi had left. “Yoongi hyung’s a Bakni. You know how Bakni’s are supposed to be the living representations of Fallen stars and asteroids and stuff? Well, hyung’s a comet and a quite powerful one at that. He never told us why he Fell though. And he’d never admit it out loud, but hyung’s sort of our captain and he’s usually the one who okays decisions and makes transactions with clients.

Hoseok hyung is a cyborg. Started tinkering with his own body a really long time ago, and he’s literally a grenade in the physical form of a person thanks to that. He’s really good at persuading people so Yoongi hyung usually puts him onto difficult clients and he’ll have the goods delivered or extracted, depending on the case, in no time.”

“And you’re the ‘muscle man’?” Taehyung asks, poking Jeongguk’s cheek fondly.

Jeongguk blushes slightly. “Yeah,” he says, coughing a little. “If you put it that way. I’m usually the one who handles combat situations and protection and such. Kryon strength and everything,” he waves his hand, still looking embarrassed. “Anyway, then we have Seokjin hyung, who’s the pilot. All of us can fly, but Seokjin hyung trained professionally and the Hovercraft is his so, he’s the default pilot.” Jeongguk shrugs. “He’s pretty okay at combat too.”

“What’s the mission you’re on now?” queries Jimin. “Why in the Galaxies would it be so important that you need us?”

“Well, as Yoongi hyung already said, it’s quite a delicate mission.” Jeongguk shifts in his seat. “A buyer contacted us about a package he wants delivered a few nights ago, but the package is already on demand by none other than Luhan.”

“ _Luhan?_ ” Taehyung gapes. “As in _Luhan of the Kree nation_ Luhan? Scary guy who wants to destroy the galaxy before his 8 am breakfast Luhan?”

“Yep, that’s the one,” Jeongguk nods. “And he’s pretty determined to get it. He already attacked the package holder not once but twice. Jimin hyung won’t be lucky a third time.”

“Huh?” Jimin flounders. “Me?”

“Yes, you. You unknowingly became the package holder when it got stolen as it was being delivered to Luhan. Tae stole it off a Groawk and gave it to you, and you’ve been attacked twice now: first on that Skycraft and now, yesterday, according to Yoongi hyung.” Jeongguk smiles. “We only got the call from our buyer the day after your first attack; otherwise hyung would probably have targeted you from the beginning. He almost had it yesterday, but then you went and stole it again from him right under his nose. That was the deciding factor for him to let you two on the in. Or so he says.” Jeongguk looks at Jimin slyly. “I don’t know about personal reasons though.”

“Wait,” Jimin is _not_ going to let himself distracted from the main point, “so you mean to tell me, this very important package –

“– Is the orb you have in your satchel right now, yes.”

 

∞

 

The club is teeming, bright green strobe lights slicing the air, the heavy thump of bass intermingling with the loud hum of voices and too many alcohol-heavy bodies. Jimin leans against the bar, dressed in the poshest suit – clean cut and white – he’s ever _seen_ let alone worn in his entire life. Yoongi, next to him, nursing a mostly full wine glass, is quietly people watching and Jimin is trying (and failing miserably) to convince his brain to stop staring at Yoongi. It’s not his fault really; the elder is dressed in a sharp black suit, which fits his body like a second skin and he screams Rich Businessman Who Throws Money Around And Is Insanely Hot.

The club – ‘Dark & Wild’ as it reads in looping cursive – was obviously reserved for the upper class of the galaxy and was the desired location of the buyer to meet them. Yoongi had decided that only a few people would be necessary to meet the buyer, so he’d only brought along Jimin and Taehyung with him while Jeongguk mingled in the foyer keeping a lookout. Hoseok and Seokjin kept a lookout from their Hovercraft getting a live feed of their surrounding from several _I_ -ye cameras, ready for a quick take-off in case things turned bad.

They’d been waiting for a good part of an hour and Jimin had taken to harassing the Bakni with question after question, which Yoongi to his credit, had patiently answered. “What time do you think he’ll show up?” Jimin groans finally, fed up with waiting.

“I don’t know,” the elder says absently, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair (Jimin’s heart stutters and _dies_ ), “Hopefully before I finish this goddamn drink.”

“That’s reassuring,” Jimin mutters glumly, slumping against his hand. He pouts up at the neon strewn club celling and turns his head when he hears a low chuckle and something which sounds suspiciously like “Cute” from next to him. “What?”

Yoongi just shakes his head, smiling. “You look like a pouty baby.”

Jimin pouts further. “But, I’m _booored_ hyung. Can you we at least play a game?”

He’s startled by a cackle from beside him. “You do realise that I’m _right_ next to you two, right?” Taehyung says, sounding supremely smug. “Seriously, Chimchim? ‘Play a game’?”

“Shut up, Taehyung,” Jimin says, blushing darker than the red wine in Yoongi’s glass. He slinks low in his seat, burying his face in his hands.

“Jimin, don’t sulk,” Yoongi says. “Great, he’s sulking. Well done, Taehyung. You’ve managed to distract him from the mission.”

“I think you did that all by yourself, hyung,” Taehyung retorts, but luckily, before things can escalate, a girl suddenly appears in front of them.

“Min Suga-ssi?” she asks, voice high pitched and sing-songey. Jimin doesn’t recognize her species but her skin is a heavy pink, maroon hair bunched up into pigtails.

“That’s me,” Yoongi says.

“Master is ready to meet you. This way, please.”

 

∞

 

After Taehyung extracts Jeongguk from the foyer, Sing-song leads the four of them down a corridor into a dark anterior room which leads to a cavernous chamber. There’s cages of all sized and shapes stacked from floor to ceiling, with a different species of human, animal or bird trapped inside. A mishmash of other junk is littered across the floor – ranging from antique writing desks to intricately carved models of the solar system, but right in the very centre of the room, behind a large metal table with two metal arms extending from it, stands their buyer.

He’s tall, well over six feet, robed in a rich iguana rug. His smile is the type which makes people keep a firm hold on such things like matches and valuables in case he accidently starts a fire or manages to burgle them in their sleep. “Min-ssi and company,” he grins. “Hello.”

He extends his hand and Yoongi shakes it. “Jimin, this is Park CY, our buyer. He’s a collector as you can see.”

“Yes, my specimens are rather outstanding aren’t they?” CY says proudly, waving his hands around. “But, I prefer to keep it classy and call myself a connoisseur. Sounds more elegant.”

“Hmm,” Yoongi hums disinterestedly. “We brought you the package, Park.”

“Straight to the point, I see.” Park CY pouts in disappointment. “Very well. May I have it?”

Jimin reaches into his pocket and pulls out the orb. CY’s eyes sparkle, handling the Orb with such care that Jimin almost expects it to blow up, though it hasn’t so far. “This is a beautiful container. I can’t believe you have this.”

“What _is_ it?” The question had bugged Jimin for far too long now.

“You’ll see.” CY presses a button and suddenly the metal arms on the table spring to life, thrumming with energy.

“This is a specialised machine, made specifically to handle containers such as this Orb,” Park CY purrs, bringing up a bejewelled hand and placing the orb in between the two metal rods. There’s a quiet whir, and the orb cracks in two like an eggshell, revealing a brilliantly glowing indigo gem, suspended in mid-air. “Behold, friends: the Infinity Stone.”

Tae lifts up his hand. “Okay, question on behalf of all the Dumb People: what’s an ‘Infinity Stone’?”

Park CY tuts slightly, before lowering his voice. “Before the universe itself, there was six singularities,” he begins in a dramatic whisper. “Then the universe exploded into existence and the remnants of these systems were forged into concentrated ingots: Infinity Stones. These stones, it seems, can only be wielded by beings of extraordinary strength. These carriers could use the Stones to mow down entire populations like wheat in a field. Held in the wrong hands, it could mean the destruction of the universe.”

“Very exciting, I’m sure,” Jeongguk says drily. “But we’d like to get paid, please.”

Park CY heaves a sigh as if to express his displeasure over how none of them were jumping around in horror at the knowledge that he had just imparted. “Very well.” He moves behind his large desk, opening up a drawer. “Would you like to be paid in cash or cheque?”

Jeongguk snorts. “Cash, what did you –

“Jea hee,” Park CY begins in a warning voice, but it was too late.

Unnoticed by them all, CY’s pink assistant had slunk closer and closer to the arms until she was right in front of it, hand outstretched, fingers millimetres away from the stone. “I shall not be your slave any longer, Park CY!” she screams, and then her fingers connect with the stone.

 _Crash_.

Several things happen at once: an explosion the size of several Laser blasts ring out, backed up by the wailing shriek of the assistant. In that same instant, Jimin feels the air whoosh out of his lungs as he gets shoved behind an adjacent counter, a second body landing on top of him, shielding his head. Heart hammering, he squeezes his eyes shut and waits for the noise to die down; clutching at the arms caging him in for dear life.

The smell of amonium fills the air as tendrils of smoke slowly curl around the heavy wire cages. Jimin coughs, bits of rubble floating down from the air in the aftershocks. As his heart rate decreases, he registers the warm breath of another person shifting against his neck. “Are you alright, Jiminie?” he hears Yoongi whisper quietly into his hair, the nickname rolling out easily. Jimin can only nod, reluctantly relinquishing Yoongi’s arms.

“Hello?” Jimin calls out tentatively. “Tae? Jeonggukie? Everybody alive?”

“I’m okay,” comes Taehyung’s voice from behind a large shelf. Jeongguk’s disembodied grunt comes from beside him and even Park CY groans an affirmative.

Jimin slowly stands up from behind the counter and peers at the wreckage. There’s a crater several feet deep where the metal table once was and most of the cages had overturned. The orb surprisingly had simply rolled a few feet away and Yoongi immediately rushes to it and clasps it shut.

“Yikes,” Jimin manages weakly.

 

∞

 

“What was I thinking,” Yoongi rages, storming out of the club. “Fucking Park CY can’t handle this – he can’t even handle his fucking assistants. He’d have destroyed the quadrant by accident, the fucking _idiot_.”

Jeongguk grabs the ball, holding it by the tips of his fingers as if it might detonate any second. “I vote we just chuck this at the first opportunity. Fuck the money, I want to live.”

“Oh, yeah and what’re you going to do if fucking Luhan just strolls in and picks it up off the nearest recycle chute you manage to lob it down?” sneers Yoongi. “Might as well gift wrap it and deliver it to his hands.”

“We could always sell it off to a second party –

“CY _was_ our second party Hoseok, look how well that turned out,” snaps Yoongi. He takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose to clear his mind. “Look. I don’t give two shits about the Universe but the way I see it, the safest bet we have now is to get this to the SPUG. This explosion is going to be front page news and Luhan will be on our asses in no time.”

“ _Or_ , we could –

“No, Taehyung,” Yoongi says firmly.

“But –

“No.”

“You haven’t even listened to my idea yet,” Taehyung protests.

“No offense Tae, but that’s because your ideas usually suck and end up almost killing us,” Jimin says, ruffling the others hair.

Tahyung pouts. “I was just going to say we could always mix it up in a bag of Silver Storage orbs and nobody will know the difference and then go play that awesome Hooky Poker I saw in that club, but fine. Now I won’t. Because my plans _suck_.” He pouts some more.

“See, that’s exactly his point,” Yoongi grumbles, jabbing a finger in Taehyung’s direction and rolling his eyes.

“I’ll play Hooky Poker with you after all this finishes oka – _oomphf_.” The last part was mostly due to Jeongguk getting flattened by an ecstatic Kim Taehyung throwing his entire body weight into the Kryon’s arms.

Jimin giggles as Yoongi rubs his face, groaning in frustration. “Or,” Jimin says, slightly nervously. “I know a contact in the IGG – he’s not very high up, but he helped me out a few years ago in a tight spot. Maybe we could call Namjoon hyung and, I don’t know, go from there?”

Six pairs of eyes snap to Jimin and he quails under the attention. “That… could work,” Yoongi says slowly, “You didn’t tell us you knew anybody from IGG.”

“It didn’t occur to me before now, actually,” Jimin says sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

Yoongi shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter, you told us now. Could you call him? And give me the Comm once you reach him, I’ll talk to him myself.”

Fifteen minutes later, it’s arranged. Namjoon immediately agreed to have it transported to the IGG (he’d wanted Yoongi to meet with the IGG and deliver it himself, but the Bakni had refused with a clipped, “We’re not heroes, Kim-ssi.”) and then proceeds to instruct them to fly to Nova Area 5 so he could personally come with a squadron of security vehicles and collect the orb himself.

Hoseok had been immediately dispatched to arrange the travel details with Seokjin and Jeongguk had veered off to a poorly lit grocery store to gather supplies with discs that they’d managed to swipe off of Park CY desk. Jimin and Taehyung stood a little awkwardly to the side, feeling left out because the other four were _clearly_ a unit that worked well together, when Yoongi turns to them. “You guys in?”

They both light up.

“More adventures? Always,” Taehyung dimples, but Yoongi’s eyes are fixed on Jimin.

“What about you?” the Bakni asks, voice taking on a softer tone.

“Of course.” Jimin ignores the way that his heart flutters at being asked personally, instead smiling cheekily up at the Bakni. “It’s the third time you saved my life, hyung. I owe you.” He blushes before stammering out a soft, “Plus, I want to.”

A small smile curves Yoongi’s lips. “Good.”

 

∞

 

Calling the Hovercraft ‘small’ was an understatement. It was tiny, but the air control panel was of the latest model and the sheer array of control buttons which Hoseok is busily pressing/operating/jamming (as he somehow simultaneously manages to give them a two-fingered salute in greeting) has Jimin’s head spinning. The interior is sleek and shiny and it’s pretty obvious from the titanium powered pumps to the gas-quadrants hung along the wall that Seokjin is aiming for speed and efficiency in the Hovercraft rather than design and comfort.

Jimin stashes his measly belongings in the miniscule living quarters (which basically consisted of tiny bunks crafted into the Hovercraft wall) and heads over to the control room. Seokjin was occupying the main pilot seat next to Hoseok while Yoongi and Jeongguk have a charter map spread out on a table and are quietly debating the best route.

“If we go by D-25, we’ll be too close to Saturn’s orbit and those pesky Xandar patrols will be on us,” Jeongguk is saying.

“But, if we try to detour and go by A-route 11,” Yoongi counters, “we’re steering too close to Luhan’s territory and no. Just no. He’s already after us, we don’t need to walk into his living room.”

Jimin wanders back again into the passageway and takes to exploring the rest of the craft. There’s an armoury and a practice room and – Jimin’s personal favourite – a door which leads up into the ‘deck’ which was an elevated square at the top of the craft, with a panel of (“mostly unbreakable,” according to Seokjin) glass on one side. Necroblasts and other weaponry were embedded into the sides of the deck, Seokjin had informed him, as it was the perfect viewing spot to target any oncoming attackers.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur with the Hovercraft zipping through the inky black of the sky. Late night brings along with it complete exhaustion to the crew of six; Taehyung had long retired to doze off on his bunk, dragging Jeongguk along for company.  Hoseok was somewhere in the craft, but Seokjin and Yoongi were operating the control panel, keeping the ship steady along its path. Seokjin had been flying for almost twelve hours straight and Yoongi had been there, just as long if not longer, for he had overseen Jeongguk’s and Hoseok’s shift as well. Jimin, perched on a chair behind the Bakni, observes the lines of tiredness on his face with a frown.

For some time they ride in companionable silence, the only sounds being the little dings and pings from the machinery and the hum of the craft until eventually, Yoongi kicks Seokjin out to go rest. And then, it’s just the two of them – Jimin and Yoongi and Yoongi and Jimin and the silence is both relaxing and suffocating. Jimin wants to say something, _needs_ to say something, but he can’t force himself to do anything except watch Yoongi quietly; watch the way his eyebrows purse up in concentration, long fingers dancing along the consoles as he keeps the craft steady through the sky. There’s a sadness to him, Jimin realises, a quiet sort of loneliness and Jimin wants to reach out and tear down all those walls and worm inside his heart and comfort him.

“Hyung,” Jimin asks gently, voice a little hoarse from disuse. “Are you okay?”

“Hmm?” Yoongi startles, silver gaze flickering away from the screen. His smiles softly, though it’s tired. “What makes you ask that?”

“I don’t know.” Jimin curls up even more on the chair, hugging his legs. “You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind.”

“We could potentially all be killed for being in possession of one of the most important artifacts in the entire galaxy Jiminie. Of course I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“That’s… not what I meant, hyung.”

Yoongi heaves a sigh, shoulders slumping. He stretches his back and the little pop of bones rearranging themselves makes Jimin cringe into his chair. His hand twitches with the urge to touch the Bakni, ease the pain, do _something_. “I’m good, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi says. “Don’t worry.”

 _He’s not,_ Jimin thinks. He looks ready to pass out, eyes sagging, the usual bright silver glow in his eyes dim.

An idea strikes him and Jimin uncurls himself off the chair and darts out of the room, returning with an armload of pain-relief patches. “You’re a lying liar, hyung,” he tuts, removing the adhesive before smoothing out the patches against the Bakni’s neck. “You’ve been rolling your neck for the last half an hour. I met Hoseok hyung along the way; he should be here in a bit to take over from you.”

“But, I’m fi-

“If you say you’re fine, I will slap you. Very happily at that, ” Jimin threatens, eyes twinkling. He runs a fond hand over the Bakni’s hair – mind internally wailing at how _soft_ it is, damn it – and maybe he’s imagining it, but the Bakni leans into his hand with a quiet hum, eyes fluttering shut. “Now, come on. Just as soon as Namjoon shows up, you’re going to take a break and we’re going to get some food.”

“When did you get this bossy?” Yoongi grumbles, eyes still closed. “ _I’m_ supposed to be the scary one.”

“Yes, well, too bad, you’re as scary as that plushie Tae goes to sleep with at night,” Jimin hums smugly. “Actually, the plushie might be scarier; because Tae’s slobbered all over it so you never know what kind of germs could be on that thing.” There’s a faint hiss as the wall slides open. “Oh! – Hoseok hyung’s here. Come on.” He tugs on Yoongi’s hand as Hoseok slides into the other seat.

“Make sure Yoong’s here gets some food, Jiminie,” Hoseok says, before sliding on the headset and easing on the dials.

“I will, hyung, don’t worry,” Jimin beams.

“And force him to take a nap as well. Cuddle, if that’s what it takes,” he calls after them, his laugh ringing in amusement as Jimin gives a loud squeak (“ _Hyung!_ ”) before proceeding to drag Yoongi away.

Yoongi is hauled to the small kitchen unit, Jimin’s small hand tucked under his arm, surprisingly strong for a Terrain. He leans against the wall, stifling a yawn, watching the younger hunting about the cupboards with sleepy eyes, a slight smile on his face. Once Jimin is satisfied there’s enough food – Yoongi spots enough jewelled crabs and sushi loaves to feed three of him – he spins around and smiles, eyes lighting up into crescents. “Come on, let’s go up to the deck hyung,” and Yoongi just follows without comment, Jimin’s hand once again slotting into his with an ease which almost frightens him.

The deck is empty, just as Jimin had predicted. Having travelled with Hoseok on the Hovercraft more times than he’d care to count, Yoongi’s very familiar with every inch of the little craft, but he always finds himself gravitating to the deck whenever he needs a quite moment. Mostly he sits there and watches the galaxy fly by, counting the stars and tracing patterns among the asteroids. Sometimes, he’ll even see comets and he wonders who it is, whether he knows them or would recognize them if he knows them. Other times, he’ll come here to train: mimicry and taekwondo and energy balancing; reaching into his core and cusping the pulsing vitality of the comet, always a slow-burning meteor in the back of his mind.

“Eat,” Jimin commands. A bowl of jewelled crabs is placed in his hands, the sushi loaves cut into neat little squares.

Jimin passes along a pair of chopsticks, and Yoongi glances at him. “I’ll eat if you also eat,” he bargains.

“What sort of compromise is that?” Jimin snipes. “ _I’m_ not the one who manned a Hovercraft almost singlehandedly for more than 12 hours.” Yoongi just looks at him, so Jimin just rolls his eyes and steals a sushi square out of his bowl before popping it into his mouth. “There. Happy?”

Yoongi snorts a little as Jimin’s cheeks puff out, but he picks up the chopsticks and helps himself to the crab, before saying “Yes.” The sound of chewing permeates the air, and Yoongi takes a long draught of water before wiping his mouth. “Thanks.” He scratches the back of his neck, a little bit of red seeping into his cheeks. “Guess I needed that.”

“Of course you did, hyung.” Jimin’s cheek is resting against his hand, but he beams at Yoongi nonetheless. “You looked like you were about to pass out and we can’t have the captain going incognito now, can we?”

“This brat,” Yoongi grumbles, coughing to cover his smile.

“First kid, now brat,” Jimin complaints. “Seriously, hyung, you have got to learn my name.”

Yoongi does laugh this time. “Jimin,” he says warmly.

Jimin hums contentedly . “It’s beautiful, isn’t it, hyung?” Jimin’s eyes are stretched wide, drinking everything in as he stares out the glass. “Look at all those stars.”

(Yoongi just grunts, too busy looking at all the emotions flitting across Jimin’s face to look at something as mundane as _stars_.)

“Can you find constellations?” is Jimin’s next question. “I never could. I always tried so hard, but I could never understand how random stars connect to form swans and bears and… and other things. It always made me a little sad, because I’d have loved to see pictures drawn in the sky.”

“Shall I tell you a secret?” Yoongi whispers conspiratorially. “I could never see constellations either until I was trained to see them.”

“But your life force is a star isn’t it?” gapes Jimin. “Aren’t you, I don’t know, _required_ to know that shit?”

“My life force is a _comet_ , not a star,” Yoongi corrects. “Vast difference.” He pauses for a moment. “Sometimes, I miss it.” He looks over at Jimin, smiling a little bitterly. “All the travelling I used to do? Riding in a Hovercraft can’t even come close to the experience.”

“Is that why you chose bounty hunting?” Jimin asks softly, “Because it allows you to travel?”

“Mmm.” Yoongi leans back on his elbows, staring off into the sky. “It’s some sort of a journey even if it’s not the one I want.”

“What was it like?” Jimin’s voice is a whisper, he doesn’t want to break whatever atmosphere is building up oh so slowly and steadily. “Being a comet?”

“Riveting.” His voice is haunting. “I can’t even begin to describe it. When I Fell, it was like my entire being got constricted.” He turns his head, silver eyes boring into Jimin’s. “A Bakni is a Fallen, Jimin. We may be stars or comets or asteroids or whatever, but, truth is, we’re still Fallen. Outcast. Deemed as too power hungry and imperfect to coexist with our friends in the galaxy.”

There’s a pregnant pause. Jimin doesn’t know how to break it, how to reach out to this very lonely, powerful sole baring even a tiny portion of his heart to him. He shifts and turns his head to stare at Yoongi too, pillowing his head with one hand. “You know,” he begins gently, tracing patterns on the floor space between them with the index finger of his other hand. “My mum used to say it’s who you choose to become that’s important, not what or who you are to begin with. I chose to become a pickpocket because I was good at it and it helped pay the bills, but it doesn’t define me. It’s only a small part of me.” He pauses. “What I’m trying to say is Yoongi, is that the term ‘Bakni’ doesn’t define you. You can choose not to be a Fallen, even though, you know, you technically are.”

There’s another considerable pause before, “You’re a good person, Park Jimin,” Yoongi murmurs, eyes hidden from view.

“So are you, hyung. You should know that.” Jimin smiles, “I didn’t have many friends when I was growing up. Moved around too much, stole too much. That’s why I was so glad I found Tae. We’ve been best friends for six years now. And now, I’ve found that I have more good friends: Jeongguk-ah, Hoseok hyung, Seokjin hyung, Namjoon hyung. You.” Jimin chuckles. “For the record, you should know you found us to make up for the ones you lost.”

Abruptly, Yoongi sits up.

“Come on.” Yoongi’s eyes twinkle bright silver. It makes Jimin beam – Yoongi looks prettiest when he’s happy, he thinks, before mentally slaping himself for thinking that. He takes Jimin’s small hand in his warm palm, fingers slotting in place like a lock and key. “Let me show you my favourite part of the Galaxy.”

They’re passing quite low now, estimatedly over B-12’s orbit, so Yoongi deems it safe enough to open up the glass screen. He pushes the button, and the glass retracts down into the side of the ship, the ventilation tanks opening up with a hiss. The sky is twinkling black, the silver and gold of the many stars in the universe.

“Give me a moment,” Yoongi whispers, closing his eyes. When they re-open, they’re pure silver, the tattoos along Yoongi’s temple gleaming softly with energy. He opens his mouth and gives a soft cry, then another. Mimcry, Jimin thinks, eyes wide, and he hears a faint answering call, mournful and sonorous… And Jimin loses his breath.

They’re beautiful – the most beautiful creatures he has ever seen. They slice through the skies, gracefully twirling and spinning and Jimin is reminded of the picture books he once saw when he was young at his hometown library. Graceful whales made of starlight and energy, playfully ducking and twirling around each other and coming to a pause in front of the Bakni.

“They’re called the Onyx,” Yoongi whispers, reaching out a hand. The lead Onyx ducks into his touch, fins waving, and Jimin watches Yoongi softly stroking the whale’s body, breath caught in his throat. “This is Gloss. He was my only friend before Hoseok showed up and he’s still one of my longest and dearest friends.”

Yoongi smiles at him, gums on display, and Jimin feels warmth bubbling in his chest, threatening to spill over in leaps and bounds. He reaches out his hand and Yoongi takes it and places it on the whale’s side, Jimin wants to capture this moment in his heart and preserve it in gold leaf. And when Yoongi’s lips touch his softly, gently, Jimin can’t do anything except wind tighter, like a planet gravitating towards its sun.

But suddenly, everything goes wrong. The whales turn skittish, fins laying flat on their backs, humming urgently.

“What’s wrong?” Yoongi asks, then whips his head to the left, eyes widening in alarm as he spots something in the distance. “Go, go,” he urges the Onyx before slamming his hand on the button, glass sliding back up.

“What’s going on?” Jimin asks, dumbfounded and Yoongi just jerks his thumb tersely at the sky, already hitting the alert button to alert Hoseok and Seokjin. Jimin squints and… shit. There’s a bright light looming larger and larger in the horizon which can only mean –

“We have visitors,” Yoongi says into the comm, crisp and sharp. “Proceed to lockdown and ready the Necroblasts. I’ll be down in a minute.”

 

∞

 

The atmosphere is tense enough that Jimin thinks he can cut through  like cheese. He wipes his palms along his jeans, watching the unit work seamlessly, Seokjin is wide awake at the operating panel with Hoseok sitting on the co-pilot chair. Jeongguk readies the artillery and Yoongi checks on the Necroblasts.

“Namjoon’s arrived at Nova 5,” Hoseok reports, a string of gibberish flickering across the screen.

“Ask him to have the squadron on alert,” Yoongi says. “We may have a fight on our hands.”

“Roger that, cap.”

“Incoming craft,” warns Seokjin, and suddenly there’s a shadow on their craft.

The ship when it comes, appears abruptly, though all of them had been preparing just for that. It’s a large black Tankcraft, dwarfing their tiny Hovercraft, with another fleet of ships behind in its wake. Jimin gulps.

“Luhan,” Yoongi says grimly.

There’s a blast.

Everything turns to chaos.

Yoongi fires blast after blast, the little Pod zipping through the air in zigzags as Hoseok and Seokjin steer the ship in a confusing series of spins so that they don’t get blasted off the Map. Jeongguk had had the foresight to install a couple more artilleries beside the Necroblast, and is busy manning the first one while Jimin and Taehyung occupy the second and third with (only slightly) shaking hands.

“Prepare for impact,” Hoseok’s voice suddenly screams through the Intercom, and Jimin barely has time to grab the handhold and brace himself before they land on Nova with a bone cracking jolt.

“Everybody out,” Yoongi shouts.

Coughing, Jimin jumps down to the ground to see that they’re joined by Namjoon’s squadron, but it’s too late. The big Tankcraft blasts a force that sets up some sort of shield that surround them, Namjoon’s fleet blasting Necroblast after blast against the protective barrier uselessly.

The TankCraft door slides open with a hiss while a walkway retracts to the ground. Once the smoke clears, Jimin blinks up to see who on Earth this Luhan is… and blinks again to see the most beautiful being in the galaxy.

Jimin had never been more afraid in his life.

 _Beautiful_ didn’t cover it. Luhan was petite, of a slim build; almost Terrainian in his appearance even though Jimin knew for a fact that he most certainly was not except for the turquoise stone embedded on his forehead. Robed in white, his small face peered serenely down at them, purple hair and equally purple eyes fixed on them like a cat’s.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my favourite bunch of do-gooders.” He walks, almost glides down the walkway, and it’s only then that Jimin notices the golden staff (“Be careful of his staff; Sceptre,” Hoseok had warned. “It’s where most of his power is stored.”)  He holds it in his hand, a similar turquoise stone to the one on his forehead capping it. He glides to a stop in front of them, small smile fixed on his face, and then raises a finger to his ear and listens to his Comm piece. “Oh, wait. My intel tells me that you are not, in fact, do-gooders.” His smile, if possible grows larger. “Four bounty hunters and two common thieves. And whoever you are.” He waves a hand dismissively in Namjoon’s direction.

“You’re not the only one armed Luhan,” Jeongguk says angrily, hoisting a Necrogun.

“I’d put that down if I were you, little Kryon,” Luhan murmers gently. “Otherwise,” he clicks his fingers and suddenly Jeongguk’s surrounded on all sides by Kree, Necroguns aimed at them by the dozen, “…that might happen.”

Luhan glides up to them, coming to a halt directly in front of Yoongi. “You know Bakni,” he murmers. “You could join my army. You’d be very useful and I’d ensure your protection in the fight to come in the future. You could leave all this behind and join me.”

Yoongi’s eyes are unreadable, and Jimin’s heart is in his mouth when the Bakni’s eyes flicker to his once before landing back on Luhan’s face. “I’d rather die,” he says flatly.

A flash of something dark passes once over Luhan’s face, before his serene smile is back in place. “As you wish,” he says, and snaps his fingers again.

Suddenly, Hoseok is in the grasp of Kree soldiers, squirming, Jeongguk firing his Necrogun but going down at the hands of four Kree soldiers, Taehyung almost in tears next to Jeongguk, Seokjin surrounded by a litenue of Kree. Luhan smiles again before lifting Sceptre, aimed directly at Yoongi’s heart and –

“No,” Jimin screams, running forwards, hand outstretched to push the staff away from Luhan’s hands –

Before Luhan’s hand switches in Jimin’s direction and the ice cold blast of energy sends him flying.

_Jimin!_

Yoongi’s voice reaches through to him from the bottom of the galaxy, his eyes swimming with different colours. _Jimin!_

 _The next blast is to kill,_ _Bakni_ , he hears from a long way away. _First this pathetic Terrain and then the rest of your little crew. Hand me that orb and maybe I’ll spare them._

 _No, Yoongi, don’t,_ Jimin thinks but it’s useless his mouth is not working, and there’s a defeated pause before, _Thank you. Now that wasn’t so hard was it?_

With the last bits of strength he can gather, Jimin sits up, eyes searching for the Bakni’s.

“Captain,” Luhan is saying to the chief Kree, voice stone cold. “Kill them all.”

Jimin locks eyes with Yoongi, willing him to understand.

“Luhan, wait.”

Luhan strolls to a standstill, victorious. “Reconsidered my option, Bakni?” he purrs.

“I just wanted to say… do you know how to rap?

Luhan is thrown for a loop. “What.”

“Rapping. It’s this cool music trick I picked up from a bunch of Terrainians of all people, actually. Listen to this.” Yoongi strikes a ridiculous pose, hand raised, eyes hooded and, “ _Hey beat, know that you’re embarrassing / just with 24 measures, you lay down sick /Compared to your size, your rap is so thin / Like your parents, my heart hurts every time I see you / I’ll put a period at the artery of your music career._ ” He finishes with his fingers bent under his arm, breathing hard. “Your turn, Lu.”

Luhan’s eyes are still scrunched up, an expression of utter bemusement on his face. “ _What_ are you doing?”

Yoongi cocks his head to the side, eyes locking with Jimin’s again. Then, he smiles, gums wide, “What does it look like? I’m distracting you.”

“Yoongi, _catch_.”

And Jimin throws the Infinity Stone which he’d quietly detached from Sceptre’s cap, when he’d snuck up behind Luhan while the Kree had been distracted.

Luhan roars, fist flying out desperate to catch it at the same time as Yoongi who leaps forward, arms outstretched. Jimin watches as the orb spins in slow motion until it’s wrapped around pale fingers, Jimin doesn’t know whose, and there’s a flash of light and everyhting’s chaos and then, and then _Yoongi is burning_. The orb bursts open on impact and washing the Bakni in golden light and Luhan’s mad scream of rage echoes like a gong in his ears but it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, because Yoongi is burning, hung in midair by the force of the Stone’s power and Sceptre’s white hot inferno blast and he’s screaming and Jimin’s heart is bursting and he reaches out, fingers curling, on his tiptoes and – there! his fingers connect with Yoongi’s, “Hyung! Yoongi hyung!” And suddenly Jimin is burning too, white flames licking up his spine as indigo flames dance behind his eyelids, fingers tightly interlocked with Yoongi’s when another hand slips into his hand – Teahyung; his adorable, stupid best friend Taehyung. And  then suddenly Jeongguk is caught up in the flames, his palm grasped against Taehyung’s and then Hoseok’s and Seokjin’s and – “Fuck this, I’m not letting you guys die alone” – finally Namjoon’s and they make a human chain around Luhan, hands joined liked kids on a playground.

And suddenly, the tide turns. Suddenly, Yoongi’s eyes glow purple and rather than eating at him, the indigo glow of the Infinity Stone glows with him. Jimin feels it next, the pain subsiding just as fast as it had appeared, eyes glowing purple, a rush of euphoria seeping into his skin. The others follow one by one soon after, and there’s a sharp _crack!_ as Sceptre shatters into dust.

Luhan’s mouth opens in horror. “What’s this?” he gasps, shielding his eyes from the indigo glow which is glowing brighter and brighter with each moment. “What is happening?”

“You said it yourself, Luhan.” Yoongi’s voice is timeless, ageless. “We’re the guardians of the galaxy. We call ourselves: Bangtan Seonyeondan.”

The indigo glow burns impossible bright and then a blast of energy ricochets off the seven of them, spreading out in a circle and the Kree simply crumple and Luhan’s barrier breaks. As the glow recedes slowly, Jimin only sees Luhan awake, though even he’s kneeling, the energy zapped out of him, the Kree stubbornly holding out on crumpling like his brethren, probably thanks to his own power.

The glow fades until only Yoongi is still shining and – wait. Jimin blinks and turns his head to see the Bakni is _literally_ emitting light, radiatating silver. His eyes are glowing, the markings over his skin coming to life and thrumming with energy. He looks _powerful_. Untouchable. He looks like a comet, burning in the sun.

“Luhan of the Kree nation,” he says quietly, hands weaving a silver circle of energy around the Silver orb of the Infinity Stone. “You have done great misdeeds, but it is not in my power nor my wishes to destroy you. I could care less about what happens to you so I’ll just leave it upto the IGG.” He nods his head over to Namjoon who breaks away from the others and walks over, backed up by a platoon of Peacekeepers. “For now, I’ll just settle with making things a bit easier for the IGG.” He reaches out and places a brittle finger on the gemstone on Luhan’s forehead. There’s a flash and Luhan crumples, all the energy draining out of him in one go.

“You! You took away my powers!” Eyes burning with hatred, he lunges for Yoongi with what little energy he has left, but ~~Seokjin~~ is already there placing Necrocuffs on his wrists.

“Luhan Lu of the Kree nation, you are under arrest,” he announces. “I’d name your misdeeds but the list is almost as long as I am, so I’m just gonna save my breath for now.” He pulls the Kree away, with three other guards in tow, but Luhan pauses for one more glance back.

“But, admit it,” he says, and his voice is back to its former lilt, soft and smooth and dangerous as a python. “You know you wanted that Stone just as much as I did, Bakni. Its power could have made you ruler of the universe and you wanted that, didn’t you?”

“No.” Yoongi shakes his head. “I didn’t. I may be a Bakni, but someone made me realise that we can _choose_ to become who we are. That we can choose to be with people we love, among our friends.” He slips his fingers into Jimin’s smaller ones, and smiles around at the people whom he’s proud to call his friends –Hoseok crouching from exhaustion but still managing to beam brighter than the sun, Seokjin observing the scene with bright eyes, Jeongguk and Taehyung huddled together, Namjoon standing tall with one arm firmly grasping the Kree’s and Jimin… his smart, beautiful, brave pickpocket, Jimin. 

“And, I’d choose my friends over any number of Infinity Stones every time.”

 

∞

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> I WROTE 14k+ WORDS, PULLED SEVERAL ALL NIGHTERS, DRANK 536462527 CUPS OF COFFEE AND CUT CLASS FOR THIS FIC. It's oveeeeer.
> 
> oKAY, let's just talk about what happens here:
> 
> \- Yoongs as a comet, slurrrrrrrrrp. Smooth Yoongs is my jAM.  
> \- Smol, smart Chimchim is a Concept™ which I bow down to.  
> _ Hoseok as a cyborg, can you imagine him as Cyborg from Teen Titans because yO, I CAN! SO! MUCH!  
> \- Whipped Taekook, oms  
> \- Exo x BTS: can we all say amEN, I loathe fanwars so much  
> \- Luhan as the villain, yum. That boy has the sweetest most evil face I AM IN LOVE  
> \- Also, hue hue, I just had to lob Kyungsoo in there somewhere, my tiny son I'm :")  
> \- BTS fighting crimes in outerspace in a spaceship. You like? Me like.
> 
> Come scream at me on **[twitter](https://twitter.com/_lemonrind_/) **^.^****


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